


Grief

by live_love_draw_anime



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Death, Gen, Pain and Loss, random drabble, very angsty, wrote this late at night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/live_love_draw_anime/pseuds/live_love_draw_anime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's never been good at dealing with loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> This is a super short drabble that I wrote one night. I've sorta been wanting to use this general scene in a fic someday so I wrote it out and decided to put it up.

He frantically threw open the door to the room. Dust flew up, furniture trembled, shutters creaked.

Kise wasn't there.

Panic rose in him like hot air. He couldn't breath.

"Kise!"

His own voice echoed back, hollow with despair. The house was quiet.

And then the stillness pressed down around him, suffocating him with its ominous whispers, crushing his chest as he struggled to suck in air. A choked cry escaped from his throat.

"K-Kise!"

The awful numbness was spreading through his limbs, freezing the terrified knot in his gut so that it stabbed with unrelenting fury, the utter _silence_  driving him mad as his eyes raked over the walls in his fruitless search—

Then he was running, ignoring the urge to tread with caution in these dangerous waters, to beware of the horrors that might await him. His mind spun in violent circles, movements erratic as he flung open doors and wrenched ferociously on knobs.

On and on he went down the hall, his pounding footsteps creating an eerie harmony that sang along with his ragged breathing, his aching head, his distressed, swirling thoughts.

Empty room, empty room, empty room.

The pattern repeated, over and over until it was imprinted in his skull, the scene flashing past his eyes as he slammed door after door after door.

And all the while the terrible, terrible mass grew within him, spreading its tainted fingers to plague his entire being with breathy sighs and mournful regrets.  _You. Your fault._

_Again._

He reached the last door, preparing to throw it open with as much force as all the others but stopped as his trembling fingers touched the cool metal. His body was shaking. His heart was wavering. He couldn't do this.

But he must.

He wrapped his hand round the silvery object with as much conviction as he could muster. The door was slammed into the plaster with such force that the ceiling shook and bits of it rained down like snowflakes at a funeral.

Then he froze, stricken, blood turning to ice as the atmosphere plunged below zero.

Because the blood that streaked the fallen boy's cheeks and chest had most certainly flown from the gaping hole that had driven the life from his body.

_"Kise!"_

The strangled sob thrust its way out of him, sending with it a hot mess of bile and tears. He crawled on his hands and knees, water blurring his sight and stealing his vision, towards the shredded corpse that had already begun to stiffen.

His palm was cold. It wasn't meant to be cold. The veins connected to his heart were supposed to be pumping that life-giving blood, the rich red liquid that circulated through his fingertips and warmed them until they were pink and tingling. And yet, there was no blood. Why? Where had it gone?

Ah—he could see now. It had drained from his heart and stained the floor boards beneath his own hands, sticky and tacky and very, very dead.

Aomine threw back his head and screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
